“Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark.” – Kate DiCamillo
Some of my favorite memories from childhood were when my uncle, Father John Fallon, a Catholic priest, would tell us stories. He would talk about my grandfather and great-grandfather, about growing up during the Great Depression, and about adventures he shared with my father. He would finish one story, and then somehow, the ending would lead into another memory.
Even the saddest stories were told with a smile. My grandfather’s death wasn’t about their loss, but about how people crossed economic lines and religious affiliation to show their respect to his memory. Having to sell the family farm didn’t end with tears, but with a joke my ancestors played on the wealthy buyer.
I was never bored, even when he repeated the same story from the week before. As a priest, Fr. John’s Sunday sermons were designed to reveal doctrine to the congregation. As an uncle, his stories revealed the man to me – how he faced hardship, why he pursued his dreams, and most of all, his unwavering love of family.
I still love listening to people tell me their stories. My life as a solo traveler brings me into contact with people who are waiting for someone to listen to their tales. Perhaps they want to tell someone about their latest success. Maybe they need to share bittersweet memories of a past they’ll never visit again. Or anywhere in between.
They want to talk. And I want to listen.
We learn so much when we listen to someone’s story. Their history. Their struggles. Their strengths.
Often hidden in these personal tales are universal truths. Life lessons on facing adversity. The importance of standing up to prejudice and bigotry. How love is a source of strength – even in the moments of our greatest loss.
Many times, when we listen to another person, we gain perspective on our own lives. Our challenges may still be daunting, but we become hopeful. A path forward is more apparent than a moment before. The pain of a recent loss is assuaged by the light shared from a stranger.
We should become “story seekers”. Asking the person next to us – whether we’ve known them for decades, or just sat down next to them in a diner – “What’s your story?”
